Thursday, March 19, 2009

I've been remiss in my writing duties. Seems I can't get away from the paying work these days. All of my writing has taken a back seat, much to my dismay.

Things are good here, but the permission thing has fallen by the wayside. TM has been wrapped up in his own world for the past two weeks with a new hobby. All well and good for him, but I can't keep my head wrapped around the D/s without his help. I'm not trying to boast, not at all, but I'm too strong not to have him keep himself in the 'lead'. He drops off, I take it. More vanilla than D/s. That's fine, but I'm not going to take the lead on D/s. If he's going to be the capital D, then do it. It's like anything in life, it has to be worked. It's not just a thought that I'm going to blindly follow.

I don't want to be the only one working at this. If it's not going to be taken seriously, then stop the pretense. Either we do this, and he acts like a big boy, or he shirks his duty and we just are as is, well except for some kinky sex.

I'm tired of the one who makes the suggestions as to how I can be more submissive in the relationship, and it's ok for a week or two, then it all seems to slip into a void.

Granted, there aren't many areas that he has carte blanche, but in the areas he does, he's not.

Yeah, yeah... I know that I could take the high road and just keep pursuing my own submissiveness and desires to serve. I'm tired of the one always taking the steps and then not having him follow through. There is some responsiblity in that. I opened the door, not once but on many occasions. All with the same result.

Granted, life does get in the way. I'm grateful that he recognizes I'm beat at the end of the day, but I think that we could still add some ritual somewhere in there.

I'm tired, I need to reconnect and get grounded and centered, but I'm not going to push for it. He knows me well enough and should recognize it by now.

Friday, March 13, 2009

I heard and felt some movement this morning in the twilight of the day. I was wavering in the realm of fighting off consciousness.

Next thing I know, I'm being straddled and the smooth silken skin of TM's cock head was at my lips. Now, I want to say that the good sub in me just opened up for him, but remember I wasn't quite all there yet. So instinctively I tried to turn my head and fall back into a blissful slumber. However, being the good dominant that he is, there was no turning away. He gripped my hair rather forcefully and pressed his cock to my lips again. This time I opened for him.

I was more awake than not. I mean how can you sleep through giving head? It's just not possible. There is a point though where you act upon instinct, and that's where I was. I had quite a few thoughts going through my head at the time. I seldom find that I can turn my brain off. I like it too much- thinking and processing that is.

One of the things I thought about was the act itself that I was partaking in. The whole concept of taking what he wants wants is one of the most absolute turn ons for me, and I have no idea what prompted this type of action as it's been gone for weeks and weeks. Anyway, I absorbed the entire situation- the feeling of his hands in my hair, pulling my head off the pillow just far enough to take his length in, the soft steady stroking of my mouth, the feel of the contours of his head and shaft as he slid in and how perfectly it aligned with my mouth. Gosh, if that wasn't enough to get the juices flowing, I don't know what is!!

I don't know what the story was this morning, maybe it was pent up need for release, but TM did his business and that was that.

When he finished, and I managed to swallow all that was deposited, I was content and literally rolled over. I could have fallen back to sleep. TM however had other plans.

I heard the rustle of the shower curtain and thought TM was heading into the shower. I was mistaken, but not sadly I'm pleased to inform you. Seems he was retrieving the rabbit vibe. He bought the water proof one and because we have a private shower and he frequently makes use of it in there, that's the home for it.

He takes great pleasure in taking the tips of those ears and finding the sweetest spot to place them. Makes me shiver just thinking about it. He presses hard, or lightly depending on his mood.

We've even used it anally. Now there's a yummy feeling. For whatever reason I'm not a big fan of the moving pearls. Don't find they do very much for me when I'm using it solo. TM has more fun with direct stimulation on my clit, so there's not much experimenting going on.

However we do have two rabbits, one that we don't use much, older model. But I think we're going to save that one strictly for anal use. Even with a thorough washing, I'm not too keen on where it goes next after being in my arse. No matter how clean I am either.

Now I'd love to try the rabbit's moving pearls in my ass. Pushed in just enough so the pearls are right at the sphinctor. That to me sounds incredibly erotic. I'll have to mention that to him.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

I've been sitting here flitting back and forth between random blog searching and increasing my stats in the multiple games I play on facebook. TM (The Man) is here at my side, on his lappie, and we haven't spoken much. That's ok though, it's not that either one of us feel like we must keep each other occupied with idle chatter, which is good, because I really don't know what to say at this point..

I've wandered through quite a few blogs today, and started following a good many of them. It's also gotten me horny as all hell.

Some of the spanking blogs I perused today, "oh my!!!" I don't think I could ever envision my ass literally blistered from a good spanking, but those red bums? oh yes, oh my, oh Lord. I think I need to make sure I have wooden spoons in the house.

That's on the fantasy list, or humiliation list, or one of the numerous lists that I seem to be formulating in my head. He and I have had numerous talks about the mind fuck. I've come to the conclusion that the mind fuck cannot just be during play. I'm way too alpha for that. It's too easy for me to go about my day and be in control of everything... not that I want to, it's just been the way I've had to live for the past 20 years or so. I've always been in charge of everything. House, family, kids, dr. apts, earning money... you name it. I said before, that's not exactly the way I envisioned my life, but what's done is done, and I'm quite proud of the woman I've evolved into.

The down side of that though, is relinquishing control OUTSIDE sex activities. It's tough, it's damned tough. So we made the compromise so I don't get into a 'backed into a corner' feeling, that he would have complete control over my sexuality, so where is that control?. So because of my vivid imagination, I see all sorts of things. Like this quiet time we have right now. I see these things, but know it won't happen.

Stick your hand down my pants and make sure I'm wet. Do something?!?!?!

Follow me in close proximity to the bedroom, close the door right behind us and pull my drawers down to my ankles.

Make me hold my shirt up and tease and torture my nipples like only you can.

Make me worship your cock on demand.

Put me up on the bathroom counter and spread me wide and tell me to fuck myself while you watch.

Make me cook dinner with a vibrating egg in my ass.

Give me a good quick fuck and pull out fast.

God, I shouldn't do this to myself... I don't need him to torture me, I can do it all by myself. But you know... there is nothing quite like feeling used, abused, a real fuck toy, a piece of meat.

I thrive on it. I need it. It takes away all my control, puts me in the right head space. It reminds me of who is really in control, who I want and need to be in control. I'm a slave to my cunt. I'm a sexual slave to TM. Therefore my cunt is a slave to TM. (not to mention every other orafice as well).

I wouldn't have it any other way.

Now, it's time to cook dinner. I love feeling my juices on my inner thighs, knowing that thoughts of TM and what he could do to me at any given moment excites me to that extent.

I love that single moment when I stand up, feeling the wetness coat me as I walk. Oh yeah, yum.

Now that I think about it, I wonder if he can smell his bitch in heat? (Just stole a glance over, he's intent on whatever he's glancing at, so yeah, he's oblivious)

God I need to be used. Good thing I know it's not going to happen or I'd be disappointed.

Everyone has one, or many. How many times have you read about the drawbacks to living out a fantasy? How it doesn't live up to expectations? I'm sure you have, and maybe even had that experience yourself. A once in a lifetime experience that wasn't quite what you imagined.

That happened to me once, or rather twice. The first experience lived up to expectations, the second, not so much. When I was in my 20's, I had a boyfriend who was quite a few years older than me (I look back now and realize how the 'older' man meant experience and control, but didn't know what it meant then). I was 25 he was pushing 40. He of course had what I think is every hot blooded male fantasy- two women and one man. I had a friend who was as sexually adventurous as I was, and about a year into this relationship, I approached her with surprising him. She was all for it, and together we plotted (I love plotting, erm, planning). This was back in the VCR days, no such thing as a DVD, and I had plenty of porn. She and I picked one out that had a good f-f-m scene and fast forwarded to right before that scene. Now the plan was to surprise him. He was pretty punctual in his arrival to the house each night, so that part was easy. She and I had a drink before he arrived to loosen us up. For as close as we were, and as open we were about our sexual exploits, we never dove into the bi arena, so this would be a first for us. It was a bit nerve wracking. I'd never been with a woman before, and while the thought intrigued me, it also scared me a bit. Not that I'd become bi, to this day I'd still label myself as bi-curious, but I wondered if when it came down to the actual act, would I do ok? Then there was also the fear- would she be better than me?

Looking back, the scene played out like a porno. We heard him pull in, took a deep breath and a few more slugs of gin, and hit play. When he came in the living room and saw us sitting on the couch, nothing was out of the ordinary, however when he turned to look at the television and saw what we were watching, his eyes nearly fell out of their sockets.

We invited him to sit between us, we didn't have to ask twice. I'm sure at that point he figured out what was going on, or hoped he did anyway. I remember some crotch rubbing by us, and each of his hands reciprocating. I don't know how far we got into the porno, but remember clothing shed, and moving into the bedroom where the real festivities began.

I remember sharing his cock with our mouths, him eating each of us, each of us eating each other, fondling her ample breasts, nibbling on her, god it was delicious. The one rule was- I got his cum. He filled me with it, not her. That was important to me, see even then I realized what a gift it was.

There was basking in the afterglow, a lot of wows, and deep sleep. It was the perfect fantasy come true.

However, when we attempted it a second time, I was not emotionally prepared for it. I was insecure and couldn't stand the thought of him touching her... so in that case it was a fantasy not so good come true.

I've done a lot of thinking about those two scenarios and realize NOW, that it was my insecurities that prohibited us from exploring further. The first time was fine, but the second time, I couldn't get it out of my head that there was something she had that I didn't. More than her huge tits, mine are far from huge, barely a handful for smaller hands even.

So I look at myself now, in the best relationship that I've had in my life, and ever will have, and think. It's a fantasy The Man has, he's done the m-m-f thing (my fantasy), but not the f-f-m. Could I bear to have his hands, mouth, and cock on and in someone else? I'd love to give him that fantasy, and I think it wouldn't be a problem. Now on a regular basis? No, to this day, I don't think my psyche can handle it. I don't share well, and he knows it. A harem or poly will never be for us, even if I AM the alpha or number 1 slut in the situation.

So that brings me to this train of thought, because I have fantasies, plenty of them. Because I love to write, I will occasionally jot one down in our journal. Granted it ends up being a scripted blow by blow (literally) six page single spaced story, but a fantasy none the less.

I can't help but wonder though, with my vivid imagination, and the ability to craft it into words on a page- am I doing both of us a disservice? I mean unless he does things word for word will it ever live up to what I have dreamed in my head? That's nearly impossible, and doesn't leave much for spontaneity.

I think that plotting, damn I mean planning, really to a certain extent can help- just like that threesome in my 20's, but too much and there's always something that's left flat. I think that's where expectation doesn't meet reality. You can envision a dinner party where the main course is a whore for use, and then you can envision exactly what happens. If something doesn't go along with the scripted part of your brain, then it's difficult to keep yourself out of the mind set that this isn't what you planned. Which I think can happen from either side of the fence.

A Dominant can plan a scene in his/her head according to specifics, or they can formulate a plan with a semblence of what could happen. I think that if you get too specific in the planning, then an adverse response (and I mean adverse in not expected) can foil the mental plan. It could be something as simple as seeing if the sub can handle oh let's say 20 strokes of a cane, and she can only handle 15- then there's a sense of disappointment in the mind of the stroker. However, if the Dominant approaches it with a 'not stop until she safewords' attitude, then the number of strokes doesn't matter. He or she has pushed the sub to safeword and the fantasy ends in a positive result.

So I think that I'm going to stop being so specific when I tease The Man with a fantasy. Not that I'm left hanging or disappointed in any of our encounters, scenes, or sex, but the mind can't help sometimes saying, "that wasn't quite what I imagined" no matter how sated one gets.

It's a good way of setting someone up for a fall. A person cannot live up to the imagined precise expectations of another, no matter how much communication is done between the two. I cannot do that for him, and he cannot do that for me.

Sometimes being simple and vague is better than being complicated and precise.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Results come in many ways. When I last wrote, I mentioned my transgression with the toilet. It wasn't something I did consciously, and I'd only been at that for less than 24 hours when I forgot to ask permission to use the bathroom.

I was reminded later on of my mistake, and was told my punishment was being deliberated. I've never been punished. Probably should have been for attitude and such over the last year, but I haven't been to date. I was mortified, and nervous. What would he do? How would he punish me? I've read plenty of things on masochism to know that there's a distinction between pain for pleasure and pain as punishment. I was going to feel the latter, and was not happy with myself for bringing it on.

My saving grace through this thought process was that whatever the punishment was, it was not going to be loud, given our room's proximity to the kids rooms. At least that's what I told myself.There had been nothing else spoken about it, until bedtime. Part of me hoped that he'd forgotten because it had been such a lovely evening. However, I soon realized that he hadn't.

I was told to kneel and spoken to like a parent to a child. I felt stupid and childish. He reminded me that this is what I requested. I agreed and apologized. All the while his fingers gripped my nipples tighter than tight. In a firm masterful voice, he informed me that if I forgot again, punishment would be severe. I was tempted to ask what severe meant, I was also tempted to lay claim that it was an innocent mistake and this was all still new. However, for a rare moment in my life, I decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and to accept the glove that fate offered me.

I'll not forget about asking any time soon.

Yesterda was a long day. Lots of work work to keep me busy, and I didn't shut the computer down until well after 8 pm. Shuffled the kids off to bed at 9 pm and then informed himself that I was taking a shower- expecting him to join me. My ass pounding was interrupted in the morning due to kids leaving for school and knocks on the door, so I expected to resume the ass pounding in the evening.

I had to go to the bathroom, but not bad, and again I thought he'd join me in the shower and he'd get yet another chance to 'humililate' me by making me pee in front of him. I also had the notion to give myself an enema, so I'd be thoroughly clean for him when he decided to take me. Now the normal procedure for me to self administer is to do so in the shower. I half wondered whether he'd sneak in and watch me, but he didn't so I continued with my normal routine. Shave the legs etc. As I shaved the first leg, it then dawned on me that I'd soon have to go expel, but I didn't ask first, and he had no idea that I'd done the enema. I held out hope that he would be in to join me, but it was soon obvious that he wasn't. I was nearing the point of no return.

There was no way I could run through the house dripping wet to the patio and ask. I'd never make it. Then I thought of the small bathroom window. I could holler for him through there and ask what I needed to ask. So I scooted from the shower, dripped everywhere and slid open the window. Once I hollered for him, I realized I couldn't hear anything he said. So that was futile. I could only hope he'd respond, or I would for sure receive the punishment I was promised.

Damn idiot I was.

I hopped back in the water and stood there, beginning to tremble from holding it in. I opened the curtain and saw him. What a welcomed site. I called him over and explained my situation. He looked surprised at first, and a little disappointed until I told him I didn't 'go' yet. I was given permission, and relief was had.

I'll have to think more clearly next time I decide to go forth with a decision. We ended up with a good chuckle out of it anyway.

This asking permission thing, is a good thing. It's keeping me focused on who has the control. Being so alpha, it makes it difficult at times not to just keep the status quo. I want the control, no let me rephrase that, I want HIM to have the control over me. I need him to have that control over me.

I've always been a slave to my cunt. Fuck it well and I'll walk over hot coals for you. Maybe it's not such a strong point in one's character, but I'm learning over this past week that it takes more than just a good fuck to put my mind where it needs to be in this D/s realm.

For example, when it comes time for a scene or play or just sex, I snap out of 'me' and step 'into' the woman who lets her man have his way. It's a great way to live, especially when one has a One who loves nothing more than to have that control. A good 'session' always makes me more compliant and 'pliable if you will, but there was something missing.

Opening up about this humiliation thing was just the trick. It has snapped my mind into a place where it needs to be to accept more than just my physical body being in his control. It puts my mind there as well. I mean I can't go take a pee without asking. How basic is that?

It feels odd to have put that control in his hands. Granted it's still new, but I like it thus far. I remember him telling me his previous submissive 'required' that type of control, and for the life of me, couldn't figure out why. Why was it a 'need' and not a 'want'. I recognize it now. It's not a 'need' for me. I could live without it. My needs v wants for him are on a much more basic level. I need emotional security, emotional protection for me and all that is mine- stuff like that. I don't have specific lifestyle needs such as when we scene- I need this or that. Many people do, it's just not one of the things I think is essential in my life. I've put my trust in this man, and I'm not going to dictate what he chooses to do in a scene. My needs list is what I need out of the relationship from a man to a woman, nothing more, nothing less.

Maybe there should be more than one needs/wants list. One for every day and one geared just for the lifestyle. Maybe that's all part of negotiation, I don't know. I do know this though, this past week has been different. I see it, I feel it, and I know it. In my head- I know it.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

Not my head, just me. I've delved into the world of erotic humiliation, another step in the exploration of me, and what makes me tick. The Man and I have talked about this need for quite some time, and basically, everything he tries- I just don't find humiliating.

So we were at a cross roads. How could I explain this need to him, if I couldn't explain it to myself. He mused the other day, that I'm a slut and enjoy everything he does. That's very true. The amount of trust we've built in the last 1.5 years is incredible to say the least. I'm also very comfortable around him, so when I'm made to do something, I'm not humiliated. What could be more humiliating than squatting on the floor and peeing on a pee pad in a hotel room? Yeah, I just put myself in the mindset that it had to be done, and in reality, I didn't mind doing it- so as a result, not humiliating.

I did some web searching on the subject and found a few articles that helped to enlighten me. Now, neither one of us are 'into' public humiliation, and after reading an article about the effects of such treatment on an unwitting public, cemented the fact that we cannot arbitrarily do things in public. Now if he were to do things in the company of fellow lifestylers, that would be humiliating. But we aren't going there yet.

Now, for a moment, I must digress. I have a Loving Dominant. We are 24/7 at present, and have been for a couple of months now. We pretty much limit our D/s to control of my body, in and out of the bedroom. The family as a unit now, is not ready for me to give up the reins, and quite frankly, neither am I. There are certain household decisions that are mine, and will probably always remain mine. For now, we're finding a nice mix.

Back to my screw up. After reading about humiliation, and distinctions regarding degradation, I realized that many things we do are humbling and I experience a certain sense of humility in my service to him. Things like crawling, splaying myself open, kneeling etc. These are every day activities and deepen my submission to him, because they are things I do and have done only for him.

So I decided to open up the floodgates and really dive into the depths of my mind and come up with a list of things that would embarrass me, some of them were brash, some of them were subtle. The same night I wrote the journal to him, he tried a few of the items on the list, and I have to say it was one night neither one of us will forget.

One of the things on the list was asking permission to toilet. Now we hadn't actually discussed the list yesterday (wrote it the night before last), but I took it upon myself to initiate some other things on there, like this one. I came home from work early, He had to go out. While he was out I texted the question, and he answered back right away. I was telling him, without telling him, that I was serious about this level of submission to him.

Today I totally screwed up. I went to the bathroom numerous times today, twice right in front of him without even thinking about asking. Slip of the mind? I'm not sure. He mentioned it just a few minutes ago, and is now plotting my punishment. I've never been punished by him before. There's never been a need. This will be a first, and I'm not looking forward to it.

Why oh why did I have to write that list? Why oh why did I have to suggest punishment for non compliance?

First, it's my first blogSeccond, it's about my mid life change of lifestyleThird, it may be your first introduction to the mind of a normal every day submissive slut.

Yes, I said it, submissive slut. What is an every day submissive slut? Well, to put it frankly, you wouldn't recognize me as a slut if you saw me on the street.

I may live next door to you, I could work with you, I could watch your kids after school. You just don't know. I don't know what you do in your bedroom or how you live your life's creed. I just know mine. Because I love the wrong end of a paddle, doesn't make me any different than someone else.

It may be different to you, it may be weird, but it's who I am, who I've always wanted to be, and who I will be for the rest of my days.

Ok, now that I put that disclaimer out, now the fun stuff.

SEX!!! There's nothing like it in the world. When it's good it's great, and when it's bad, hopefully there's still something you can be satisfied from. Not too many things like it in the world.

So what makes submission so different? Why does society label the lifestyle as deviant?

Think back to the 1950's. Dad ruled the roost. Mom had dinner on the table when he walked through the door at the end of a long work day. Kids were all cleaned up and the house was spotless. Mom's world revolved around making Dad happy. She rarely had to worry about work outside the house, or the pressures of the big bad world. The world was what Daddy creates. It was up to him to earn the bacon, make most decisions and that's what the code was.

Things are not much different in D/s. In some households it is Daddy who still makes the decisions, and the rest of the family looks to him as the role model. With most women working outside the home today, and a majority of marriages falling apart, women have had to be reliant upon themselves for survival. In a D/s house, many of the aspects of the 1950's household still ring true, except that mom may often work outside the home.

I would have loved to be the modern home maker wife. Nothing would have pleased me more than to have a man take care of the yard work, make the decisions, and I submit to his every desire. I was not that lucky. Failed marriage w/ kids left me on the dominant side of the house. I was on my own with kids to support, no help from him. I did it, and did it well I think. Kids are thriving. However, something was missing.

I can remember the age old argument about initiating sex in the bedroom. I never was good at initiating, unless I had a few drinks in me. I can remember telling him that it was hard for me to do it. Instead, I'd give the cues, slink up next to him, fondle him a bit maybe, or even nuzzle his neck. But that's as far as I would go, until he gave the impression that he wanted more. Even then I was looking for direction. Now that I think about it, I remember asking him in one sexual encounter to 'tell' me what to do and how to do it. He had no idea what I meant, and wanted no part of it.

Anal sex, the ultimate taboo in non kinky households (otherwise known as vanilla). I adore anal sex, he would lose his hard on. There's something about being taken in the back door that just shows dominance in it's finest. I can remember a girlfriend from h.s. who didn't even like doggy style because she felt inferior, gosh, there was nothing I loved more than being pounded from behind.

The signs were there all along, I just never knew what they were.

I've always been sexual, and always fell for the guy that gave a good fuck. It just naturally makes me subservient to him. The power of the cock I guess.

I can remember reading sexual excerpts from fiction mom was reading, anything that made the woman helpless, wanton, or nudged let's say into doing what she ultimately wanted to do but was too prim and proper to let herself go. I wanted to be that character in the book.

I grabbed porn wherever I could find it. When I baby sat somewhere, I was the snooper. If you had porn not locked up I'd find it. Not only would I find it, but I'd read and look at every single page and article. My uncle had some really good shit, way more than your Hustler and Playboy. He had the kinky stuff. He had the mags where the woman was tied up, or taken by surprise in a semi public setting. God, I loved that stuff. Couldn't wait to vacation up at their house for a week every summer. He had some good fiction too.

That was my introduction to sex. Nothing more than that. I was never molested, never abused, never mistreated as a child or teenager. I grew up in a loving household with two parents that to this day adore and who are still married.

I lost my virginity at 16, because I didn't want it anymore. In the front seat of a car, I decided it was time and poof it was done. Looking back I wish it meant something. It would be nice to tell my girls that it was worth the wait, but I can't. Instead, I can tell them that I wish I waited. Maybe that will do some good.

Did looking at all that porn as a kid shape my outlook on sex? No, I don't think so. I was hardly repulsed by anything I saw, even just straight soft porn. I find all sex beautiful in some way, shape, or form. I also think what people do to find gratification in a loving relationship is between them. As long as it's consensual.

So what's this blog going to be about? Well, now that I've laid the framework, and you realize I'm not some traumatized girl waiting to be rescued. In fact, just the opposite. I'm educated, employed with a renouned company. Have a great family and great kids, great friends, a great home, and I've achieved this all on my own. No help from the ex or anything.

Back to the purpose of the blog... I'm going to share the good, bad, ugly and the intense and the mundane of this journey into submission. It's not all rose petals and violins. Especially coming into this mid life, and after being on my own for more than a handful of years.